Live from Stark Tower
by Frace
Summary: The Avengers and co. find themselves... but no, it's not possible. They can't be trapped inside the TV... right? This has Loki written all over it. (inspired by the supernatural episode 'changing channels')
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired by the episode of Supernatural called 'Changing channels.' Please read, enjoy and review :) The chapters for this will be short, and a lot of them will be quite cracky- fair warning.**

* * *

Tony's eyes fluttered open and he looked around in confusion- he was lying inside a room somewhere he didn't recognise- this could mean either one of two things: if today was his lucky day, he had gotten drunk and was now in the back room of a bar. If not, he had been kidnapped- again. A sudden spurt of static crackled in his ear, and he realised he was wearing his earpiece.

"Hello?" he croaked out- god, his voice sounded awful.

"Stark? Is that you?" It was Natasha. He grunted in the affirmative. "Where are you?"

"I have no idea; you?"

"I've no idea either."

"Well; that could be a problem."

* * *

Tasha had woken up curled up on the sofa of what appeared to be a waiting room. The moment she had realised something was up, she was on her feet, scanning the room.

"Hi!" grinned a breezy lady in a too pink shirt. "It's your turn; are you nervous?" Tasha grabbed her by the wrist and flipped her onto the floor with a snarl, only to be zapped by a jolt of energy by some unseen force. She whipped around, trying to work out what was going on, when the nurse clambered back to her feet. "Come on, sweetie- I'm sure you'll be great."

"Stark," growled Natasha lowly. "Stark!" But there was only the whine of static.

* * *

"Mr Stark, sir?" called a voice, pounding on the door. The ear piece had suddenly stopped working, and he didn't have time to look at it. Tony rolled to his feet, his head feeling remarkably clear despite the fact that he was just unconscious. "Mr Stark? It's time."

"Time for what?" snapped Tony, pulling the door open, only to pause. He was in a stadium. In the bleachers, thousands of people screamed and waved. Right before him was a top of the line, holy crap, that would be expensive even for me sports car.

"Congratulations Mr Stark," said an elegant blonde woman who handed him the keys, "on being the first Rookie to make it to the formula one championship." Tony had no idea what was going on, but he liked it, and with a grin he slid into the car.

"It's talent- sheer talent, baby!"

* * *

Natasha had learned the hard way that she just had to go along with it, otherwise some unseen malevolent force would shock her into oblivion. With that noted, she stared at the total wipe out challenge with a new level of disdain. Wasn't this a TV show?

"Get ready, and... GO!" shouted a voice, and what the hell- she was stuck here, she should at least have some fun with it.

Their expressions once she finished with a new record time were definitely worth it as she flipped neatly off the course and landed on the ground in front of them.

"Now that that's done- what am I doing here?" However, the lady didn't have a chance to respond before the world went black.

* * *

Tony's whoops and yells of excitement were drowned out by the roar of the engine as he shot down the course, swerving and overtaking with reckless abandon. He was in fifth; now he was in fourth; third, second, and just as he was about to go for first some idiot behind him rammed into him and sent him careening off course. He shot towards the wall and top speed, but just before he collided, everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce blinked in his confusion as a dark veil before his eyes suddenly cleared. He was on a cheap, uncomfortable couch, diagonally opposite a desk with a strange grinning man behind it. Bright lights shone down on him, making him squint, and on the other side of the room sat rows of people, clapping and cheering. He gave an awkward smile and a jerky, half wave, trying to work out what was going on.

"As promised last week, we sit here with the esteemed Dr Bruce Banner, whose new book 'everything looks better in green' is due to hit the shelves in a week's time. So tell me, Doctor Banner- how does it feel?"

"Strange," muttered Bruce, desperately trying to work out what was going on. The man smiled, and coughed out a fake laugh.

"I imagine it would be- my sources tell me that you've been working on this book for the past eight years, is that correct?"

"What's going on?" asked the poor doctor, only to be blasted by some unseen bolt of energy. Was this something to do with Thor? "I mean- yes, absolutely. Yes. My book."

"Well, it's just splendid that you've finally managed to get it published. So, the thing we all want to know- what is it about?"

Crap.

Bruce picked up the book in front of him, and quickly studied the cover, which was dark purple with the words 'everything looks better in green' embossed in shimmering emerald. There was no blurb or description of any kind, nothing but a '"Fantastic!" _The New York Times'_ on the inside front cover, and what book didn't have that?

"It's about... a, uh, gnome... called Freckles. Who would only wear blue." Oh god- he was the leading expert in gamma radiation and a certified genius but _this _was the best he could come up with? "And then one day his sister... um... Acne... gave him a green hat. And he loved it so much that he decided to make everyone wear green. He ends up shooting Acne when she decides to wear purple... and that's... the end?" He finished lamely. The presenter began to clap again, as did the audience, with whoops and cheers ringing in his ears. "Now could you please tell me what's going on?" he whispered to the host, only to be jolted again. Looks like he would just have to go along with it.

"Thanks for being here with us today, Dr Banner- and, as a show of goodwill, every guest in this room has received a free, signed copy of Dr Banner's new book!" The applause was deafening. "Thank you, Dr Banner, goodnight!" Before Bruce could reply, the world went black.


	3. Chapter 3

Loki came to looking up at a white ceiling. He sat up and scanned the room. It was filthy and what he could only guess was a mortal kitchen. There were echo's of clashing metal and running water as people rushed around with steaming pans and stirred foul smelling broths.

"Were you sleeping on the floor?"

Loki tilted his head to see an almost white haired man wearing a clean white apron, a large white hat that puffed out at the top and black trousers.

"Were you just sleeping on the god damned floor?!" The chef yelled as his cheeks turned hot with anger.

Loki spun around on the floor to face the man.

"I will sleep on the floor if I please." He assured as he sized up the man.

The man stared down at him as if he grew up inside a dumpster. "Get up!" He yelled as he grabbed Loki's shoulder and hoisted him up harshly.

Loki looked down at the mans hand on his shoulder and jerked away. "What is this?" He stared at the man and then down at his own clothes in horror. He, too, was wearing the white robes of a servant. "I DEMAND TO KNOW WHAT-"

The god was cut off as he was shot in the back with a jolt of electricity and stumbled forward. He spun around, only to find no source of the shock.

The man with the white hair strode up to Loki and stared at him mercilessly. "Nine years of this show and I have never, not once, seen anyone as brainless as you are. And that's saying something."

Loki shoved the worthless man out of his face and glanced around. "Show? What show?"

"Uh, my show." The man stated as if it were a well known fact.

"Your show?"

"Yes! I am Gordon Ramsay and your kitchen is a friggin nightmare!"

"So you are the host of this show? But who would voluntarily watch a show about a man with the charisma of a concussed jellyfish?" Loki asked, a smirk drawn across his lips.

The man stared on at Loki and calmed his breathing. "Im going to ignore that." He said, trying hard to control his anger, "Just get on with your job."

Before the man turned around sharply, he tossed an apron at Loki. Loki looked down at the rag in disgust. "I AM A GOD! I WILL NOT SIMPLY CONCEDE TO THIS SLAVERY!" He roared, throwing the apron onto the floor. Only to be shocked by a greater force of electricity.

Loki almost keeled over at the shock, but picked up the fabric reluctantly and put the loop over his head to hang around his neck with a pout on his lips.

He started walking to the other end of the room when a man shouted to him.

"We need a spotted dick." He called. Loki looked around to see if the man was talking to some other mortal when he shouted at him again. "Yes you! Table four wants a spotted dick. And he's the food critic so make it a good one."

Spotted dick? Loki knew that humans had odd eating habits but he hadn't thought they had resorted to the kind.

The man had seen Loki's revolted expression and called back to him, "The British dessert you sick moron."

Loki walked over to an iron door he had seen people come out of with food. It was a room of ice and mist that towers of food rose out of.

The first item of food he found was a yellow object in the shape of a half moon. Spotted dick. It must have gotten its name from somewhere, he thought to himself as he grabbed two of the yellow fruit.

A half hour later he was stood at a counter with all the food he had cut up; two bananas, raisins, a sausage, a chilli and a few pickles.

He put them into a clear cage with blades at the bottom - a contraption he had seen some other mortal use to make a solid into a liquid - and sprinkled some spices into it; pepper, paprika and cinnamon as well as some sugar.

The outcome was not quite what Loki had imagined a spotted dick to look like. He poured the brown liquid into a bowl and looked at his creation with admiration.

He was thankful the world faded to black as he tasted a bit and his tastebuds almost exploded.


	4. Chapter 4

Thor opened his eyes to a very confusing scene.

Now, to say that there weren't many things on Midgard that confused him would most certainly be a lie, but this one was... especially puzzling.

He was standing in front of what appeared to be one of Friend Stark's screens which had a tract of land and a swathe of ocean displayed on it, along with some swirly things that Thor supposed to be clouds. Around him, an omnipresent voice loudly announced,

"And now to Thor Odinson, with the weather; hello, Thor!"

"Hello," the Norse guard replied uncertainly. "Would you care to tell me what is going on?" A jolt of energy zapped him, but before he could retaliate his comm crackled to life. "Friend! Help me, I am in dire need!" A disgruntled huff was all that came from the other end. "Friend?"

* * *

Hulk didn't know where he was, and he didn't much care. Earlier, a strange voice had sung

"Domestics with the _hulk!_ Today we are looking at- _KNITTING!"_

but now it was serenely quiet, and he was feeling calm. The rhythmic _click clack_ of the tiny needles clutched in his oversized hands soothed him, and the steadily growing length of scarf was satisfying. So when the bug in his ear had called out with a

"Friend! Help me, I am in dire need!" he simply huffed in annoyance before pulling it out and crushing it in his palm. With it gone, he could focus on the scarf- it was pink, and it was beautiful.

* * *

The comm. went dead and Thor found himself standing awkwardly, trying to work out what to do.

"Mysterious voice?" He was zapped again. "Where are you?" Zap. "Where am I?" Zap. "What is the meaning of this?" Zap.

"So, Thor, care to tell the viewers what's going to happen along the Eastern Seaboard in the upcoming week?"

"Once you tell me what is going on!" Zap. "Who are you?" Zap. "ENOUGH OF THIS!" The god finally bellowed, losing his patience and raising Mjolnir into the air. "YOU WANTED WEATHER! YOU SHALL RECEIVE A THOUSAND YEARS OF THUNDER FOR DARING TO KIDNAP THOR ODINS-" The world went black.


End file.
